


hands-on approach

by exprsslyfrbidden



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Kara is thirsty af, Masturbation, PWP, Smut, but who isn't, it's lena luthor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 04:34:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10756812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exprsslyfrbidden/pseuds/exprsslyfrbidden
Summary: You know what's stressful? Breaking up with a boyfriend. You know what's good stress relief? An orgasm. You know what's not a stress relief? Having the person you're fantasizing about walk in on you with your pants down. Literally.





	hands-on approach

**Author's Note:**

> written with practically zero editing; all mistakes are mine and I claim them. You can't have 'em. Enjoy!

Frustration, to Kara, feels like little schools of fuzzy-scaled fish are swimming through her blood, hot and anxious and throwing a little fish party in the lowest part of her gut. Regular frustration it is not; she’s always been, despite appearances to the contrary, a sexual being — Kryptonian culture isn’t prudish about reproduction and neither is she — and not being able to relieve it is on par with not being able to punch things when she’s infuriated. 

 

At least with other frustrations, she can take it out on something: concrete is plentiful for her fists, altitudes above cruising are great for shouting until her lungs are icy, unlimited buffets are heaven for comfort food binges. Unfortunately, there isn’t much she can do for not having enough time to get herself off. Or to replace useless, rather mediocre boyfriends. 

 

Not that she’s only looking for good sex, but shouldn’t boyfriends be somewhat interested in your pleasure? Or gratification? Or comfort? Kara’s appalled at the lack of consideration she recieves the first few times they sleep together. It’s easier, after several terribly awkward conversations with Mon-el, to just sleep in the bed with clothes than without. And it’s downhill from there. Straight downhill, like riding in a shopping cart from the top of the tallest hill in the neighborhood without realizing that there aren’t any built in brakes for stolen carts from Walmart (personal experience can attest that it’s a  _ fast  _ ride). 

 

She doesn’t break up with him for that. It’s all the other things that pile up, things that are best left to rot and never encounter again. She doesn’t really want to think about  _ those  _ things. 

 

But there are other things, infinitely nicer things, that immediately spring to mind when she walks out of the DEO after breaking up with him. Things like a certain dark-haired CEO who’s probably forgotten to each lunch again. Bounce in step and smile on face, she heads for home with a list of Things To Do As A Single Woman Who Don’t Need No Man: 

  1. find a can of chips, take a picture of herself eating them and send to Lena with the caption “guess who’s a single pringle now??” 
  2. finally, after two millennia, achieve the fabled female orgasm
  3. chill out in bum clothes without fear of judgement
  4. eat Mon-el’s cheesecake in the fridge
  5. delete stuff from her Netflix list that Mon-el added
  6. reclaim her sink (thank god, _elbow space_ )



 

The chips are hidden behind Alex’s prodigal stash of protein bars (“I have to at least  _ try  _ and have a fraction of the muscle you do, Kara, stop judging me”) and are hamburger flavored. Kara doesn’t remember buying these, but considering how quickly the inventory of her pantry changes, that’s not surprising. She sends the picture to Lena, delighted by her own wit, and checks that off the list. Next?

 

Ah, yeah, the thing that Mon-el seems to have no concept of. 

 

Kara hops into bum clothes (a pair of Supergirl sweatpants and somehow, Lena’s Harvard debate team shirt) and pauses, torn between the comfort and relative quiet of her bedroom versus the convenience of her living room couch. Sure, the quiet of her bedroom allows for uninterrupted imagining, but actually being on the couch where she imagines things happen...that’s too much of an opportunity to pass up. 

 

It’s a simple fantasy, really. Now that she's a single Pringle, there aren't any underpinnings of guilt for imagining it while with somebody else. There aren’t any fancy kinks or situations, just her and Lena and a couch (it’s always a couch, isn’t it?). At first Kara’s go-to fantasy involving her totally-just-a-friend Lena had featured the couch in Lena’s office. Then they’d started having lunch together on that couch and it was a little more than distracting, having imagined touching Lena. Kissing her. Ripping off her clothes. Feeling her body writhe and hearing the sound of her moans….and trying to keep up a civilized, intellectual conversation whilst trying to avoid those thoughts is impossible. 

 

Kind of like rubbing your stomach and patting your head. Kara still can’t do that. 

 

Her upgraded fantasy is only a little more intricate. It’s movie night, they’re watching some cheesy rom-com with a bad sex scene. Lena says something about how it’s unrealistic. Kara asks her how she’d know (also very cheesy, porno stuff). Lena suggests that she shows Kara and she agrees in a heartbeat. 

 

Kara settles onto the couch, lying across the length of it, and closes her eyes. Where would Lena even start? 

 

_ She’d be between Kara’s legs, hovering over her, slightly possessive. Heartbeat erratic. Body warm and pliable. “I’ll start slow,” she’d say.  _ Kara shivers, her own hands following those of imaginary-Lena.  _ She’d run her hands up and down Kara’s arms, squeezing her biceps and shoulders. “I’ve always had a thing for strong women,” she’d purr.  _ Kara flexes and grins to herself. Thank Rao for yellow suns. 

 

_ She’d tease — not kissing Kara, not even letting her get close — with touch. Feather-light, atoms apart, just enough to brush the little blonde hairs on Kara’s skin. Fingertips deft, like a cat burglar, stealing sensation and unlocking delicious shudders from Kara’s body. “Don’t tease,” Kara would command, and it would sound more like a plea than an order.  _

 

_ “Why?” Lena would ask, corner of her mouth curling up in that illegally endearing fashion. “Are you going to punish me?”  _ A pulse of arousal at the thought makes Kara gasp. That’s a fantasy to explore another day. That frustration burns to life like a match thrown into kindling. Those little fuzzy fish are swimming, and boy are they  _ horny.  _ Impatient, Kara pushes her shirt up and drags her fingertips across the smooth plane of her abs.  _ “It’s unfair,” Lena would mutter. “You got a pretty face and a hot body. Most of us only get one of those, or none.”  _

 

_ Kara would laugh, and tug Lena’s hands up to her chest. “Are you complaining?”  _

 

She swipes the pad of her finger over her nipple and gasps, back arching. Fuck, she’s way more worked up than she usually is. No time for foreplay, no time for buildup. She fast forwards a little in the fantasy, letting one hand slip down past the waistband of her sweatpants as the other teases her nipples to tight, sensitive points.  _ Lena would lavish her breasts with attention, swirling her tongue like she’s eating some exquisite dessert, moaning... _ Kara’s seen it before. They’ve eaten ice cream together once, at the park. It was...unnecessarily sexual. Kara had needed a cold shower afterwards.  _ Finally, she’d tug Kara’s pants down. She’d laugh, eyes crinkling at the corners, at Kara’s underpants with little dancing pizzas on them.  _ She opens her eyes real quick to check; no, she’s wearing the adult ones, the sexy black ones. Good. 

 

_ “You're adorable,” she’d murmur, fingers hooking in the band of her panties and tugging down, down, down... _ Kara shoves her sweatpants down around her ankles and her underwear follows. Her apartment is warm, the air soft on her skin. 

 

_ Lena's fingers would trace curling patterns on the inside of her thighs, and Kara would squirm, needing more and not getting it. “Lena,” she'd gasp, “please, just touch me.” She’d hear Lena’s smug little hum, the slight increase in the pounding drumbeat of her heart.  _

 

_ “Oh, but I am,” she’d purr. Her hands would trail up and down Kara’s legs, swiping ever closer to the apex of her legs, the warm heat waiting slick and needy. “Where do you want me, Kara?”  _

 

Kara can practically feel Lena’s fingerprints etching themselves into her impenetrable skin. Eager fingers, her own, give up on the teasing and encounter wet heat.  _ Rao,  _ she’s wet. A shuddering gasp stretches from her mouth. “Lena,” she breathes, hips moving up to meet the strokes of her own hand.  _ Lena’s fingers, those long, piano-player’s digits, would touch her with the physical sensation of sweetness, like adoration or simple admiration. She’d slip into Kara easily — “You’re so good for me, Kara,” murmured on sinful red lips — and caress her, urging on fluttering walls and the sparks of pleasure jittering up Kara’s limbs.  _ “Rao, Lena,” she gasps, hand moving even faster. “ _ Harder.” _

 

_ “Anything for you, darling,” she’d mutter, and finally,  _ **_finally,_ ** _ she’d lean up to claim Kara’s lips. Her hand would speed up, tearing coherence from Kara’s vocal chords. Closer, faster, tighter, building and growing and swelling —  _ Kara cries out. Her fingers, slick and frantic, work faster and she reaches down to rub her clit, words escaping from the prison of her lungs: “Fuck, oh —  _ Lena —”  _

— — — — — 

Lena’s extremely concerned. Kara doesn’t usually text her world-shaking things like “I’m single now!” and then follow that up with radio silence. Lena sends a few more texts, hoping to elicit a response. She’s not usually a double texter, but the more time she spends with Kara, the chronic double- and triple- texter (and even more, when she’s excited) the more it’s rubbed off on her. 

 

[Lena]: Kara???

[Lena]: You can’t just drop a bomb like that and then not reply to me, Kara Danvers.

 

Lena considers the unfinished report on her desk and shuffles that into the corner. 

 

[Lena]: I’m coming over, be prepared to spill everything. 

 

So she heads over. She’s not really worried about letting herself in; Kara gave her a key a while ago, isn’t that what it’s for? Plus, it’s not like she can sneak up on Kara. Believe her, she’s tried. It just ended up with an embarrassed Lena and an unfazed Kara, confused coworkers around them trying to figure out why the CEO of L Corp just tried to jump Kara Danvers. 

 

All in all, she’s not remotely concerned about walking in on something, because, well, super hearing, duh. She’s not supposed to know but it’s hard to not put two and two together. Blonde hair, blue eyes, intense need to protect Lena? Supergirl and Kara Danvers, two totally different people, right. 

 

So walking in on Kara, touching herself,  _ moaning Lena’s name —  _

 

She’s a Luthor. She knows how to take an opportunity when it presents itself and when it aligns with her plans, even when certain parts of her brain are fizzing out because Kara’s  _ naked  _ and  _ touching herself  _ and  _ moaning Lena’s name.  _

 

She clears her throat. “Am I interrupting?” 

 

“Ah!” Kara spazzes out, limbs flailing, eyes wider than saucers. Pillows go flying. Lena can’t help but stare as Kara attempts to cover up, trying to pull her shirt down and her pants up at the same time. Her abs flex and Lena almost drools. 

 

Before her brain starts functioning again, Lena kicks the door closed and crosses the room in short quick steps. She reaches out to grasp Kara’s hands. Kara stills, eyes panic-wide. Lena notes, with a flush, that Kara’s right hand is slick. “Let me give you a hand with that,” she suggests, dropping to her knees by the couch. Kara gapes at her like a fish. “Kara?” she prompts. 

 

“I — Lena — you — why are you here?” she splutters. Her hands don’t pull away from Lena’s. “You’re — I —” 

 

“I texted you,” Lena says, smirking. Her gaze strays to the glisten on Kara’s fingers and she leans in unconsciously. “You didn’t reply.” Kara makes a strange gasping sort of choked noise as Lena takes her index finger into her mouth. Kryptonians taste...delectable, Lena decides, sucking lewdly before releasing Kara’s finger with a pop. 

 

Kara looks like she’s about to have an aneurysm. Her face is the same crimson as her cape.

 

“Le— you — I’m, you’re —  _ what? _ ”she asks, plaintive and utterly lost. Her gaze doesn’t leave Lena’s mouth for a single moment. 

 

“I texted you,” Lena repeats, licking a long stripe down Kara’s middle finger. Kara swallows, hard. “I said I was coming over, and to be prepared to spill everything about being single again. I did not, however” — she nips at Kara’s fingertip and Kara squeaks — “mean spill  _ everything. _ ” She squeezes Kara’s hands and winks. “I’m not complaining, though.” 

 

“Okay,” Kara manages. Her face goes even redder when she catches Lena glancing at her chest. “You’re not — freaked out? I thought — I’m sorry, I just — I wasn’t —” 

 

“Wasn’t what, Kara?” Lena presses a wet kiss to the center of Kara’s palm. “Wasn’t thinking about me while you got off? You know, that offends me.” Kara’s eyes get real wide again and Lena can’t help but giggle. “Why wasn’t I invited? I much rather prefer to actually be there, getting you off.”

 

Something flickers in Kara’s blue eyes — a little spark of boldness, or maybe just the sunlight — and she squeezes Lena’s hands back. “Want to give me a hand, then?” she suggests, and  _ Jesus.  _ If Lena thought teasing a flustered Kara was fun, then having Kara seductive and playing along is even  _ better.  _

 

“Absolutely,” Lena murmurs. “Where were you?” Kara pauses, hesitant, and Lena pushes a little. “Tell me everything.” 

 

“Well,” Kara begins, and her courage grows as the word drags out, “I was imagining you, um, touching me.” Lena unlaces their fingers and holds her hands out, palm up. Kara stares, and then understands. She tugs Lena’s right hand to her chest, shivering as it comes to rest on her breast. Kara swallows thickly and brings Lena’s other hand down. Her fingers trail over the smooth skin of Kara’s thigh and come to rest just inside her leg, on warm, slightly damp skin. Kara jerks her chin up, the face of crumbling bravado and nerves. “You were straddling me,” she mumbles, and Lena’s  _ so  _ glad she’s wearing slacks today and not a skirt. 

 

“Mmm, how did we get here?” Lena asks, throwing her leg over Kara’s waist and settling, cautiously, on her legs. Kara squirms to get comfortable, tense as a bowstring. “Have we kissed yet?” She rubs little circles on Kara’s inner thigh, other hand gently massaging her breast. Kara’s breath hitches as Lena teases close to the apex of her thighs before withdrawing. “Kara,” she nudges.

 

“We, um, were watching a movie. We haven’t kissed yet, you’re — you’re teasing me,” Kara admits, biting her lip. Lena hums, contemplative. “Just like now,” Kara adds, fingers tapping on the couch. 

 

“Well, I don’t know what I do next,” Lena teases, leaning over Kara. She rests her weight on her elbows, liking the contrast of her stark black power suit against Kara’s tan skin. “Care to enlighten me?” Her breath slides across Kara’s jaw, a caress of anticipation. The dark specks of blue in Kara’s eyes catch the light and Lena can see the universe, spinning wild and infinite, in them. 

 

Kara breaks the spell by leaning up to press her lips to Lena’s. Lena’s eyes flutter shut and she arches into it, responding to the gentle swipe of Kara’s tongue with enthusiasm. Kara’s a good kisser — good, so good, Lena’s melting — and her lips are soft. She tastes vaguely of salt from the chips and something sweet. Caramel, perhaps?   
  


“You kiss me,” Kara mumbles, voice raspy, “And then you put your damn fingers inside me and make me come.” 

 

“Fuck, Kara,” Lena groans, eyelashes fluttering, “you’re hot when you're blunt.”  

 

“Thank you.” Kara jerks her hips up and Lena’s knuckles brush against slick heat. Her words are strict but pleading on the ends. “Fingers, please?” 

 

Lena starts with one — but Kara rolls her hips and squirms, “More,” spills from her mouth — and then adds another, feeling herself clench at how wet Kara is. For  _ her.  _

 

“Like this?” she asks, thrusting slow and deep. “Faster, maybe?” 

 

Kara moans and writhes, managing to throw Lena a frustrated, childish glare of impatience. “Lena” — another pillow falls off the couch — “you  _ know _ that's not enough, please, just  _ move _ alread—” 

 

Lena does as she’s told and a quivering groan stretches from Kara’s throat. “Fuck,” Lena mutters, awed. Muscles strain in Kara’s neck and her arms flex as she tries to get more friction, abs tense and quivering with each taut breath. “You’re so beautiful,” she whispers, curling her fingers, and Kara cries out. 

 

“Kiss me,” she pleads, back arching up as she asks. “ _ Lena —”  _

 

Lena captures Kara’s next words in her own mouth. A moan vibrates the air between them and Lena feels Kara clench around her fingers — once, twice — then her hips jerk crazily, meeting Lena’s hand in sliding thrusts, and she exhales, sagging into the kiss and back against the couch. 

 

The couch is small, width-wise, but Kara still tugs Lena to lie down with her. “C’mere,” she mumbles on bliss-numb lips. “You’re amazing.”

 

Lena nestles her head into the hollow of Kara’s shoulder, draping her arm across her torso. “That’s just the orgasm talking, darling,” Lena teases, and Kara snorts. “I’m sure you’ll change your mind once the oxytocin wears off.”

 

“Nerd.” Kara squirms when Lena wipes her hand on her leg. “You’re gross.” 

 

“You’re the one who came on me,” Lena retorts. 

 

“You made me come.”

 

“Are you actually complaining about that right now. Seriously.”

 

Kara giggles and Lena has to give in to the grin breaking across her own face. A flash of doubt darkens Kara’s smile. “This isn’t...a one time thing, right?” 

 

Lena hurries to reassure. “No, of course not.” A beat. “Unless you...want it to be…?”

 

“No, no,” Kara blurts, shaking her head wildly. “More than a one time thing.”   
  


“We should probably talk about it, then,” Lena suggests. “With clothes on?” 

 

“Why?” Kara’s dead serious for a few seconds into Lena’s incredulous stuttering, then lets a bright, joyful grin spread across her face. “Kidding, I’m kidding.” She looks Lena up and down, mischief creeping into her eyes. “How about you get out of those clothes?

 

Lena exhales and it suddenly feels very warm. “And how do you suggest I do that?” 

  
Kara shrugs deliberately, nonchalant. “I could give you a hand….”

**Author's Note:**

> comments, questions, concerns, the lyrics to all-star by smashmouth, I'll take 'em all. 
> 
> More prompts? Lemme know @feveredreams.tumblr.com


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